Wilbur's Story

Wednesday, April 2, 2003 - got a message about a "small donkey with really long feet", had been picked up at auction and possibly exposed to strangles. Apparently the new owner planned to hogtie him and take a hacksaw to his hooves (presumably without anesthetic).

Thursday, April 3 - asked caller to see if we could buy it from her neighbor and ask him please not to touch his hooves. Called friends, vets, and farriers, gathering all the information we could.

Friday, April 4 - owner said okay and caller advanced the $40 he was asking for us so that he would have no right to touch the hooves. Western's School of Horseshoeing agreed to trim his feet, and recommended a vet to handle the anesthetizing. Contacted our friend Wayne who agreed to quarantine the donkey at his place so we didn't bring strangles - or anything else - home to our herd. Arrived at dark, discovered small donkey was a not-so-small mule - but his feet WERE really long! His ribs were showing. We had to bite our tongues while they loaded him by chasing him through a passageway and into the trailer by smacking him with a whip. The poor thing could hardly walk. We drove away wondering if we had bitten off more than we could chew Decided to call him Wilbur (after one of the Wright brothers) since he was our "first flight" into a serious physical problem. Arrived at Wayne's, set up pen. Could not get close so shut trailer divider to contain him and once the halter was on he lowered his head and let me scratch him. It was easy to tell by his behavior that although severely neglected he had not been aggressively abused - he was obviously terrified and in pain, but not mean. He went into the pen much easier than we had expected. We unhooked the lead ropes, fed him, and filled the water bucket. We left so he could eat in peace and get used to his new surroundings. All the way home we kept saying to each other that we couldn't believe anyone would treat an animal that way, and how amazing it was that he was still so sweet after all he had been through.

Saturday, April 5 - we had plans we couldn't change so could not visit but Wayne reported that Wilbur ate well and was accepting his presence more calmly each time he approached.

Sunday, April 6 - we took the camera and went to visit. Wilbur was calm so long as we kept our distance. Took a bunch of pictures!

Monday, April 7 - Randy delivered pictures of Wilbur's hooves to Western's School of Horseshoeing. We were scheduled for Thursday and they would have a class discussion about how to handle this case. Made calls to coordinate with vet and tried to be patient until Thursday. Wayne reported that he was eating well but lying down constantly. He would see Wilbur get up every time he came out of the house or pulled in the driveway.

Thursday, April 10 - finally! Wilbur unsure at having a dozen people around. Used extra fence panel and two of the bigger students to slowly pin Wilbur against the far panel of the pen. The vet began the anesthetic and by the time he went down, had given him enough for an animal twice his size. She said his will to live was very strong, much like the wild mustangs, fighting off the medication to avoid becoming vulnerable. Once he was down a towel was used to cover his eyes and the instructor, Tim, took a black marker and drew where each hoof should be cut. The vet remained at Wilbur's head while the students began working on all four feet at once, in order to get done quickly and avoid giving him even more medication. It did take a hacksaw to get through the hooves, and it was hard to watch. I took refuge behind the camera and just kept pushing the button. One person asked if we would have him gelded while he was out anyway but the vet said that would be bad, that he should be able to walk after gelding to keep the swelling down, and with the condition of his feet he wouldn't be walking much.

There was some bleeding on two of the hooves, which were doused with betadine. Once the major cuts were done, Tim began using nippers to polish the job. Wilbur's hooves had curled inwards and twisted, rather than pancaking out as some hooves do. Although this caused his legs to twist as well and made it difficult for him to walk, it saved his frogs from considerable damage. The two hooves with bleeding were medicated and bandaged to keep them clean and avoid infection. Tim continued trimming until Wilbur started to wake up. He stood quickly, although a bit shaky, and even took a step forward toward one student who was reaching out to him through the fence panel. (I think it was the baseball cap, as Wayne, who had fast become Wilbur's favorite person, usually wears one.)

Tim gave him a "much better than fifty percent" chance for his hooves to be normal again, although he did warn that it would probably take a year before the hooves would grow out enough to replace themselves. With regular trimmings and a good diet, the prognosis for his hooves is guardedly positive.  As far as his legs, only time will tell. Tim also recommended feeding him Hoof-Rite to hasten the process, but since the vet bill more than emptied the rescue fund, we weren't sure how we were going to accomplish that. The vet and farrier both said that if the previous owner HAD hogtied him, he would not have been able to get the job done and would have traumatized the mule so much that no one would have been able to get near him again.

Wayne noticed right away that Wilbur spent most of his time on his feet, rather than lying down like he had before the trimming. He spent a lot of time on Wilbur and slowly but surely was able to approach more readily and began scratching him. By the end of the second week he could walk right up to Wilbur and hug him around the neck with no attempts at avoidance.

Sunday, April 27 - At three weeks since we got him, Wilbur's ribs hardly show any more, although we are feeding him carefully so as not to put too much weight on his legs. He has been letting Wayne brush him so he's not so scruffy, and so far, so good, no signs of strangles or any other medical problems. The first tub of Hoof-Rite has been donated and we have high hopes for Wilbur's future, although he still has a long, rough road ahead of him

June 1, 2003 - working with Wilbur on his legs. I can now run my hands all the way down both front legs without reaction. Started on the back legs and can get halfway down on both before he shows irritation. Asked him to give me a foot for the first time and he did with no problem, for a couple of seconds. When he pulled away I let him go. Will continue working on holding it up for longer periods of time. Need to get him to the point he can be trimmed without anesthesia! Lindsey has discovered a spot on his neck where if she scratches real hard, he will turn his head toward her, put his chin on her shoulder, and actually pull her closer to him. What a personality this guy has! He hollers every time he sees us now. And I think he has appointed himself protector of the minis - when we introduced the new mare, and they were all fussing at each other (establishing that pecking order!) he became agitated and voiced his disapproval of their behavior! You could almost hear him say "Hey you guys, be nice!"

July 18, 2003 - Wilbur's second trimming was delayed due to communication and scheduling issues, but we also felt that waiting a little longer would give him that much more time to get used to having his legs handled so that he wouldn't require as much anesthesia. On July 18 he went in for his second trimming, which was accomplished with him standing. However, now that several months had passed with his feet shortened, both the vet and the farrier concurred that his leg bones had matured in a twisted position and, even once the hooves were straightened, the leg bones would remain twisted. Unfortunately they were so badly twisted that he would not be able to put his feet down straight even with his hooves in proper trim, and as a result, he would always be in constant pain. He was unable to run or even trot, and walked only very short distances with great difficulty.

Our goal as a rescue is to improve the quality of life for the animals who come to us and, if we are unable to do so, to release them from their pain in a dignified and humane fashion. Wilbur's awesome personality made our decision to have him euthanized a very difficult one for us, but the bottom line is that he had suffered constantly for so many years, it just wasn't fair to ask him to continue living in pain.

To all of you who joined us in our attempt to rehabilitate Wilbur, from simply sending good thoughts his way through a whole host of other types of assistance, we thank you from the bottom of our hearts. Special thanks to Wayne Peterson, Western's School of Horseshoeing, Hoof-Rite, The Arizona Desert Riders, and Samantha Beegle for their donations of time, money and supplies we couldn't have done it without you!

Wilbur, we can only hope that the love and care you had during the last few months of your life can somehow offset the abuse and neglect of the preceding years, and that when you cross the Rainbow Bridge and run pain-free across the lush green grass, you can forget the bad people and the bad times, and your memories will be of Wayne's calm patience; Lindsey finding that special scratching place on your neck; Susan biting carrots into little pieces for you to convince you to try them; apples and raisins and treats offered by hands that then stroked and scratched and patted and rubbed; and kind voices that soothed your fears.

As for us, we will never forget you - not the horror we felt at first seeing your condition; the butterflies we felt as we drove home with you; the concern that we would be able to handle your care; the determination to make your life better; the hope that we could help you reach a point where your pain would be gone; the relief when your prognosis looked good; the lessons you taught us of patience and perseverance while we worked on your fear and tried different ways to get you to take your medicine, accept treats, and let us handle your legs; the thrill when you first called out to us; the joy of watching you bloom as you grew more comfortable with humans every day; and the despair of discovering that we could not, after all, make things right for you. We thank you for your trust and we promise that your story will continue to be told with the hope that seeing what was done to you will spur people to action when they see other animals being mistreated, neglected and abused.

You take with you a piece of my heart, and leave behind tears that will, from time to time, continue to water that green grass upon which you now run and play.

   

Rainbow Bridge

Just this side of Heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing: they each miss someone very special, someone who was left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; his eager body begins to quiver. Suddenly, he breaks from the group, flying over the green grass, faster and faster. You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into those trusting eyes, so long gone from your life, but never absent from your heart. Then you cross the Rainbow Bridge together...


*Author Unknown